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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25919704">A Broken Quill</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Learning how to read, Pretty general stuff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 03:35:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>407</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25919704</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Razol has gotten a chance to learn how to read, under a close friends guidance.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Razol/Myron Alexius</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Broken Quill</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I have been thinking of writing a long Razol x Myron fic, but i wanted to write something short and kinda fluffy as a warm up, this was the result.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Mmm, this means ‘Fanalis’, right?” Razol places her finger under the word she was reading. Slowly were the letters coming together, and after some time she had managed to put all of them into familiar words.</p><p>“It is. And here is ‘Corps’.” Myron said. The woman was reading a book she had borrowed from her brother, it was quite interesting, it made her attention become pulled between Razol and the book.</p><p>Razol gave her book a quick glance, before nodding, continuing to trace her calloused fingertips over the recently dried ink. It was smudging, leaving a blurry edge on the letters, and a few marks on her fingers. She huffed, ignoring it for now.</p><p>Razol didn’t know what reading would be good for, the position she had as a soldier didn’t need for her to be able to read, but even then...if you could read, it means you had got an <i>ounce</i> more of respect, and Razol knew everyone of their family had to strive hard to reclaim the name of their race, to be able to proudly show their heritage without cowering under the weight of their ancestors mistakes of being turned into slaves.</p><p>“Razol.” Myron’s voice was too soft, too nervous, as she watched the quill Razol had in between her fingers tremble before it was snapped, leaving it to single down onto the table.</p><p>Razol took a second to realise, and when she did a warmth spread throughout her face.</p><p>Myron frowned, scratching the back of her head before taking out a new quill. “Don’t go around breaking them, it’ll look bad.” </p><p>“Thank you, My.” </p><p>“Haven’t I told you not call me that?” Myron flushed red, a bright colour that even Razol was surprised to see.</p><p>“Hmm, what? You’ll have to say it again, I can’t hear you, My.” Razol grinned, hitting Myron I’m the arm gently, letting Myron go off on a rant about how ‘ladies shouldn’t act like that!’ Which, Razol has spent enough time around noble woman to know that she didn’t abide those rules at all, something she was glad for, Myron’s temper could be a <i>joy</i> to watch.</p><p>Stuttering out the last sentence of her rambles, Myron sat down, blushing up to her ears and arms crossed. The book had been tossed to the side and Razol felt a laugh bubble up, and she let her calloused fingertips trail over Myron’s knuckles, making the noble woman gasp gently.</p>
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